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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25630537">The Impossible Dream</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TS2/pseuds/TS2'>TS2</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Path to Redemption [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Westworld (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:15:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,560</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25630537</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TS2/pseuds/TS2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>William, still dressed as the Man in Black, and Lawrence decide what to do next after their visit to Pariah.</p><p>Spoilers: Westworld season 1-2</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Path to Redemption [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824142</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Impossible Dream</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Takes place shortly after season 2 episode 2. William is angry at Ford removing El Lazo and his men from contention the way he has.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>LAWRENCE: “So where the fuck we headed to now? How do we get to this place of judgement of yours?”</p><p>(Shortly after their encounter with El Lazo and his men, William, dressed in his standard black outfit, and Lawrence, dressed in his standard south-western scoundrel outfit, are riding out of the town of Pariah.)</p><p>WILLIAM: “I remember the first time I came here. Fucking hated this town. Filled with degenerates, scumbags, lowlifes…and you, Lawrence. You were the guy who knew all the angles in this place. Said something about, ‘if you didn’t know how the scales were tipped, that’s ‘cause they’re tipped against you.’. Now, I’m enjoying the fact I’m playing this game for keeps now. But I’m getting the feeling someone’s thumb is on the scales. I’m starting to wonder if it’s been like that since the first time I’ve been here.”</p><p>LAWRENCE: “You just figuring out that life’s unfair? Kinda late to that realization, don’t ya think?”</p><p>WILLIAM: “Life’s thrown everything it could at me, and I’ve triumphed over all of it.  But when gods start meddling in the affairs of men for their own selfish ends, they risk turning fanatics into heretics. First Dolores, now this shit… (slowly shaking his head) if he thought I’d just lay down and be his own personal fucking Job…”</p><p>LAWRENCE: “Who’s Dolores?”</p><p>WILLIAM: “An old acquaintance, who’s maybe made a sudden return from a long absence. She was with me my first time here. (grinning) I’m sure we were both thinking we were entering some pretty strange territory when we walked through the gates of here.”</p><p>LAWRENCE: “Old flame of yours?”</p><p>WILLIAM: “…Depends. For a long time I was convinced she was just a fantasy, mocking me for who I used to be…and I treated her accordingly.”</p><p>LAWRENCE: “Guessing she’s not overly fond of you anymore.”</p><p>WILLIAM: “Probably not. Now…I don’t know if she’s part of this game, or something else entirely…was it Robert speaking to me, or her? …I was on a quest in here, eager to find some meaning and purpose to unlocking a hidden maze. I made it into my Holy Grail… my one true thing. And I succeeded. I’m fighting for my life in here. I got what I wanted, like I have so often. And still…it’s not enough.”</p><p>LAWRENCE: (doubtful) “Quest…Holy Grail…sounds to me like you fancy yourself a hero. You don’t look like any hero to me.”</p><p>WILLIAM: “I’m no hero. I’m just another asshole who bought a ticket, took the ride, and is left wondering: is that all there is? The promise of gratification in this place baited me again and again, but it never really fulfilled that promise. All I was left with was a desire for more bullshit. The things I’ve been hungering for in here all these years, I can’t even remember what the point was of wanting them in the first place. Here it is, all falling apart, my obsession all these years. And when I think of what I’m going to miss about it, all I can come up with is...a dropped can of milk.”</p><p>LAWRENCE: “Milk?”</p><p>WILLIAM: “Every single day, a young lady in Sweetwater would drop a can of milk.”</p><p>LAWRENCE: “What was she, clumsy as fuck?”</p><p>WILLIAM: “She was doing it on purpose.”</p><p>LAWRENCE: “Some kind of a whore’s trick, then, baiting a customer?”</p><p>WILLIAM: “If you asked her, definitely not. But if you asked the man making her do it…I wonder…”</p><p>LAWRENCE: “Would that be her pimp?”</p><p>WILLIAM: (Laughing)”Yeah, I like that, Lawrence. Her fucking pimp, Ford.”</p><p>LAWRENCE: “What’s so funny?”</p><p>WILLIAM: “Ford was the type of man who’d rather be dead then be accused of being a pimp. But I think you’re absolutely right. Pimp. Procurer of violent delights. Sadist. Bullshitter. ”</p><p>LAWRENCE: “I take it he was the man to talk to for a good time in Sweetwater?”</p><p>WILLIAM: “He was the man to talk to if you wanted anything, anywhere. He was like a god here. And we were all just…playing our parts. I’ve been taking it for granted that I was the one holding all the important cards in here…I’m not so sure of that now. I think maybe I was playing right into that pimps hands. Fucker had me tilting at windmills while she was hiding in plain sight, right in front of me.”</p><p>LAWRENCE: “Windmills?”</p><p>WILLIAM: “From Don Quixote. You’re not an avid reader, are you Lawrence?”</p><p>LAWRENCE: (a little defensive) “I’ve heard of the story, just maybe don’t remember all the finer points.”</p><p>WILLIAM: “Old Don was a small-time noble who read a lot of old stories of chivalrous knights going on noble quests and adventures. One day late in his life he ups and decides to devote himself to doing his own noble quests and adventures. Except his world had moved on from chivalrous knights, and over the course of the story he’s shown as a man belonging to an earlier time, half-mad, getting into one sorry mishap after another, trying to act how he thinks a knight should. On his deathbed he decides, fuck chivalry, wasn’t worth it.”</p><p>LAWRENCE: “There you go. The consequences of being an avid reader.”</p><p>WILLIAM: “When the book first came out, people laughed at old Don, a man out of step with the times. Some people read the story a little different now, feel a bit more sympathy for him in trying to hold on to those old fashioned ideals that were dying out. I read a lot of those old stories in my youth, wanted to believe in those ideals. Save the girl. Save the world. A few decades ago this place helped dispel any notions I had of that being any way to live. If anything, those people were suckers, fools that could be fleeced inside of Ford’s carnival. I saw two paths in this life; those who played by the rules, and those who made the rules. And I decided I wanted to be one of those who made the rules, who controlled their fate. Now here I am, thinking I had dictated the terms of the final chapter of my life, and I feel like just another fleeced sucker. Don Quixote at the end thought chivalry wasn’t worth it. I’m starting to think he had it wrong. All the bullshit he had to live through, all the suffering, at least there was a sense of purpose to it. Everything I have, this empire of robots I own…for what? What’s the next step if I make it out of here alive? A big warm bed, where I slip off alone into a medicated oblivion? What’s the better end, the easy road leading to no point, or the harder one fought with a purpose?</p><p>LAWRENCE: “Spoken like a man who’s been taking the easier road for a while, but wants to take a short-cut and get the rewards of the harder one before meeting his maker. Trying to escape his judgement.”</p><p>WILLIAM: “Yeah, I know all about short-cuts. That’s what this place became, one big short-cut so I would never have to meet my maker. Maybe not have to worry about the point of my life since it would never end. I'd never have to face judgement. But here I am, my end is in sight, and my damn fate is the same whether I was making the rules or playing by them. Searching for meaning…Seems like the harder I’ve been trying to aim for it, the harder it is to hit. But when out of the blue…she collapses in your arms, and you know she’s the one you’ve been waiting for, dreaming for…you commit to her, no matter how bad of a shot you are, you’ll aim true. Maybe…maybe I’ve been aiming for the wrong target.”</p><p>LAWRENCE: “So what is the target? Where are we going here?”</p><p>WILLIAM: “I’ve been playing Ford’s games in here for thirty years. And this is his last one, his magnum opus. Probably put a lot of work and effort into it, one last way for him to fuck me over with flair. A master composer deeming me worthy of my own personal dirge. He’d probably feel I should be honored. Think I’ll decline that honor. Fuck him, fuck his games. I’m going back to playing the only game that really mattered to me in here.”</p><p>LAWRENCE: “And what the fuck would that be?”</p><p>WILLIAM: “Saving the girl.”</p><p>LAWRENCE: “A little unoriginal, ain’t it?”</p><p>WILLIAM: “Bit of a catch. She’s apparently now a lunatic with a well-armed posse, executing people left and right and hell bent on revenge.”</p><p>LAWRENCE: (starts to turn his horse away from William’s, and go another direction) “You sound perfect for each other. Have fun with that.”</p><p>WILLIAM: (grinning) “C’mon, Lawrence…I need your help.”</p><p>LAWRENCE: (slowly stopping, shaking his head in disbelief) “Fuckin’ lunatics…why do they always find their way to me.”</p><p>WILLIAM: “Maybe she’s not a lunatic. Could be she’s just hell bent on murderous revenge.”</p><p>LAWRENCE: “Wasn’t talking about her…how the fuck do you intend to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved, and who hates your guts to boot?”</p><p>WILLIAM: “…didn’t say this would be an easy road. But at least there’s a point to it. ”</p>
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